long? I remember it was just after I came here, when dear Alethea took me in. A shocking thing!”
Ottilia could not resist. “What, that Miss Beeleigh took you in? It sounds a most charitable proceeding.”
“No, no, I don’t mean that.”
“Nothing in it,” said Miss Beeleigh in a flat tone that gave the lie to an odd expression of intensity in the almond eyes. “We were schoolfellows. When I heard how things had been left when Radlett died, seemed sense to pool our resources. We deal well together.”
“Indeed we do,” agreed the widow, but with a darting look of doubt at Mr. Netherburn that caught Ottilia’s attention.
“I understand,” she said, “but what of this Mrs. Uddington? Why did she run away?”
Although Miss Beeleigh threw in another of her habitualsnorts and Mr. Netherburn shook a grave head, Mrs. Radlett’s attention focused instantly.
“It was said she’d betrayed her husband. And who do you think was the culprit?” Ottilia guessed from the portentous pause just what was coming but forbore from stealing the woman’s thunder. “Duggleby.”
Chapter 5
M rs. Radlett sat back with an air of satisfaction. Ottilia knew her duty.
“Dear me, you don’t say so? The blacksmith himself?”
“Pah! None knows the truth of it, of course.” Thus Miss Beeleigh.
Mr. Netherburn leaned in, excitement throwing pink into his cheeks.
“I had forgot it. But don’t you see how this changes everything? How may anyone blame poor Mrs. Dale when there is Uddington with the strongest of grudges against the dead man?”
“But why should he wait seven years to take his revenge?” objected Ottilia.
Her auditors looked struck; all but Miss Beeleigh, who nodded.
“True. Don’t make sense.”
“It is a consideration,” agreed Mr. Netherburn, sitting back again, but with disappointment in his face.
“Well, but he might bide his time, waiting for an opportunity,”offered the widow, patently unwilling to relinquish this promising avenue.
Ottilia smiled. “Perhaps Mr. Uddington is not the only man to hold a grudge against this Duggleby. He does not seem to have been a popular fellow. Who were his friends, do you know?”
“Always been thick as thieves with Tisbury,” stated Miss Beeleigh.
“Not forgetting Staxton,” put in Mr. Netherburn. “One could not take oneself into the Cock without finding the three together.”
“Yes, and Bertha Duggleby said she’d had comfort from Molly Tisbury last night,” added Mrs. Radlett.
Ottilia put up a finger. “I would not set too much store by settled friendships. I have had occasion to observe that broken friendships produce the greatest enmity.”
Miss Beeleigh was nodding. “You are very right, Lady Francis. Horace, had you noticed of late any reduction in amity among those three men?”
Mr. Netherburn sipped his coffee, evidently subjecting the question to examination. At last he shook his head.
“I cannot say I have noticed anything of the kind. But I am bound to state that all three were apt to exhibit an ill-tempered manner on occasion.”
“It would be unlikely to manifest at this present,” Ottilia said, “for people tend to band together in times of trouble, do you not think?”
“They are certainly banding together against poor Mrs. Dale,” said Mr. Netherburn, a peevish note entering his voice.
“Indeed yes,” agreed Mrs. Radlett. “Had the vicar not intervened last night, I must say I dread to think of the consequences.”
Miss Beeleigh set down her cup with a snap. “I’d forgot the new vicar. His arrival should content you, Horace. Another face to add to the social circle. Young, too. Daresay he might winkle Cassie Dale out of her shell.”
Ottilia watched Horace Netherburn colour up and noted the dagger look cast upon her friend by Mrs. Radlett. By good fortune, she caught motion through the window in the periphery of her vision and looked out.
“Oh, there is my husband. Dear me, is that perhaps the vicar
Ottilia could not resist. “What, that Miss Beeleigh took you in? It sounds a most charitable proceeding.”
“No, no, I don’t mean that.”
“Nothing in it,” said Miss Beeleigh in a flat tone that gave the lie to an odd expression of intensity in the almond eyes. “We were schoolfellows. When I heard how things had been left when Radlett died, seemed sense to pool our resources. We deal well together.”
“Indeed we do,” agreed the widow, but with a darting look of doubt at Mr. Netherburn that caught Ottilia’s attention.
“I understand,” she said, “but what of this Mrs. Uddington? Why did she run away?”
Although Miss Beeleigh threw in another of her habitualsnorts and Mr. Netherburn shook a grave head, Mrs. Radlett’s attention focused instantly.
“It was said she’d betrayed her husband. And who do you think was the culprit?” Ottilia guessed from the portentous pause just what was coming but forbore from stealing the woman’s thunder. “Duggleby.”
Chapter 5
M rs. Radlett sat back with an air of satisfaction. Ottilia knew her duty.
“Dear me, you don’t say so? The blacksmith himself?”
“Pah! None knows the truth of it, of course.” Thus Miss Beeleigh.
Mr. Netherburn leaned in, excitement throwing pink into his cheeks.
“I had forgot it. But don’t you see how this changes everything? How may anyone blame poor Mrs. Dale when there is Uddington with the strongest of grudges against the dead man?”
“But why should he wait seven years to take his revenge?” objected Ottilia.
Her auditors looked struck; all but Miss Beeleigh, who nodded.
“True. Don’t make sense.”
“It is a consideration,” agreed Mr. Netherburn, sitting back again, but with disappointment in his face.
“Well, but he might bide his time, waiting for an opportunity,”offered the widow, patently unwilling to relinquish this promising avenue.
Ottilia smiled. “Perhaps Mr. Uddington is not the only man to hold a grudge against this Duggleby. He does not seem to have been a popular fellow. Who were his friends, do you know?”
“Always been thick as thieves with Tisbury,” stated Miss Beeleigh.
“Not forgetting Staxton,” put in Mr. Netherburn. “One could not take oneself into the Cock without finding the three together.”
“Yes, and Bertha Duggleby said she’d had comfort from Molly Tisbury last night,” added Mrs. Radlett.
Ottilia put up a finger. “I would not set too much store by settled friendships. I have had occasion to observe that broken friendships produce the greatest enmity.”
Miss Beeleigh was nodding. “You are very right, Lady Francis. Horace, had you noticed of late any reduction in amity among those three men?”
Mr. Netherburn sipped his coffee, evidently subjecting the question to examination. At last he shook his head.
“I cannot say I have noticed anything of the kind. But I am bound to state that all three were apt to exhibit an ill-tempered manner on occasion.”
“It would be unlikely to manifest at this present,” Ottilia said, “for people tend to band together in times of trouble, do you not think?”
“They are certainly banding together against poor Mrs. Dale,” said Mr. Netherburn, a peevish note entering his voice.
“Indeed yes,” agreed Mrs. Radlett. “Had the vicar not intervened last night, I must say I dread to think of the consequences.”
Miss Beeleigh set down her cup with a snap. “I’d forgot the new vicar. His arrival should content you, Horace. Another face to add to the social circle. Young, too. Daresay he might winkle Cassie Dale out of her shell.”
Ottilia watched Horace Netherburn colour up and noted the dagger look cast upon her friend by Mrs. Radlett. By good fortune, she caught motion through the window in the periphery of her vision and looked out.
“Oh, there is my husband. Dear me, is that perhaps the vicar
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